First, a story.
On Sunday, I made a mistake. What I had thought would be a fun little good deed ended up being NOT good for a few people. Everything turned out okay in the end, but it could have been disastrous, and I spent half the afternoon crying and feeling awful about my actions.
Yesterday morning, before any of this happened, as I drove through my neighborhood I saw a giant hawk swoop down and grab a small creature in it's talons and fly away again. I love seeing that kind of real wildness happen, a little nature magic in the middle of my suburban ordinaryness. And I immediately felt a pang of jealousy towards the animal kingdom. How would it be to live so elegantly and instinctively?
Being a human being, especially one trying to find the right way to live in our broken world, is so complicated sometimes.
When I was working on this today, I realized that THIS is my glimpse of the hawk's instinctive life. Working on these pages turns my chattering, second guessing, nagging brain off, and something deeper breaks through.
My newest methods of cutting up collages and rearranging them has been a surprisingly joyful and satisfying experience. I've learned that mistakes aren't an end, they're the begining of something new and usually better, more complex and more interesting. And realizing that through my work gives me hope that it can happen in life, too.
(nothing ventured, nothing gained)